A Midnight Rendezvous
by Chrissy Renee Pinto
Summary: Dai'shi has taken to visiting Camille's bedroom at night. How does that make her feel? What does happen in such situations.


**Dai hi/Camille! The first original concept of power rangers! Send me reviews and I will consider a sequel!**

You are aware of his entrance as likely as you know of his control over you. His presence is undoubtedly surreal, and as the little light breaks through the wholesome darkness, you are left pondering the fading blithe vestiges of your dream. The air is dark, morbid and icy but the night in the security of sleep, there is a light turbulence of change, a flicker of hope in your usually selfish heart. He is the phantom that steals kisses and whispers sweet entreaties into space but somehow they penetrate your dreams, sceptical and fantastic. Even with your misgivings, you are ready to cherish them as the most benevolent gift. You would like to think that in the morning you kneel by his feet, revering him but in the darkness he comes to your bed indulging himself with what you truly want to offer. Love, compassion and friendship are such alien concepts to power driven beasts. It would appal the ignorant because it is unheard of; the elements of good have NO place in the wasteland of the evil. If that was true then, what were you feeling? What could describe the emotions twisting in your gut and the sorrow that embitters you?

Your reptilian eyes are all sparkling mischief and absinthe fire, demonic innocence and malicious servitude. But in corners when shadows paint inky blackness and she is secure from his sight, the true weight of what she has to endure is felt most painfully.

Grief echoes in her depths, wrinkles of distress laden with confusion while the ghost of tears track down her face.

Contrary to lonely days, he attends to her at night.

You can't tell which one of the two, whose heart you have breached or if it is really the case. The walls breathe neglect and antipathy. The palace was resplendent yet toxic at the same time, suffocating anything 'pure' that might blossom, a representative of Dai-Shi's character. So you render yourself motionless and impassive for fear that an involuntary spasm would shatter the easy tranquillity, a precious rarity, worst strip you of the dignity which you hold in esteem. He reins, owns you, every unkind reproach of his razor tongue wounds you deeply and it creeps like vermin on the ground. You wish it was different but it seemed fate planned it that way. How else would Camille like it to be-You the tragic heroine and him the heroic prince. One of the power rangers if your sinister imagination was allowed to stretch so far.

A sneer flickers on your lips by mere transient contemplation. Rigid stone becomes you, the undercurrent of emotions suppressed under reassurance as his hand stretches outward. You regulate your breathing or what you think it is his name threatening to tumble from your lips. Under the fog of slumber, the first real contact outside of rank begins and it too vague for you to feel. Is he really touching you or is it just the current of night cool air. Then it happens. A spark of electricity across your cheek, the dams breaks on the pent up frustration engendering the smallest amount of movement. It was nothing but a small shift in position. The warmth is gone in a whip splash and it takes real muscle to protest vocally and your lips are sealed to admittance.

There is mumbling. Your ear strains to discern the speech, the content, the mood and maybe the objective. Is it a preclude to later rapprochement, the kind which would snap your heart in two. Although the thinking brings waves of frightened tremors, your mind is characteristically grave and impeccably calm as it is in the heat of battle. Numb acceptance has been a perpetual relegation.

It would be of small of appeasement if you could overhear a minuscule affirmation that hinted at his undying gratitude and maybe some interest! But it sounds so ludicrous, reverberating in your cynical head that you want to reprimand yourself callously. Maybe that it why it is nothing but a rush of hot air into the stillness of the atmosphere that hangs overhead. A shiver ripples through your spine and the fluttering in your chest increases in rapidity. Why does he make you feel this way? You scream soundlessly to the heavens, it is displayed in your posture, more restless movement as if the very act of sleeping unperturbed is growing difficult.

You can feel his watchful gaze, crawling over your form. Your stomach clenches, riddled with these complicated affections. He leans forward. Your breath catches in your throat along with panic and a vapid sort of expectation. Brushing his lips across your forehead. Your heart skips a beat; a taunt immobility seizes your muscles. The touch is as light as a feather yet indented in your skin. Somehow you feel you have descended into some kind of dream fantasy.

His scent overwhelms your nostrils; musty and masculine with the added fragrance of raw power. The desire stirs vividly like a whirlpool and you want to return this brief kindness with passion. "Sweet Dreams!" The gentle tenderness in his tone though carefully masked by hoarseness permeates through you and reignites the bitterly- shredded anticipation. His voice is low with a specific human baritone yet it could also not be your master. There were only a few perceptible differences that distinguished the great and mighty Dai Shi from the meek human Jared. One of them being the ability to bestow love and gratitude. The annoying insect quivers in your stomach. You curl yourself further into a fetal position, maybe to safeguard your heart. But a cold hand travels down your spine, tickling your need to feel his warmth. The air is static with uncertainty. Neither willing to venture first, to cross the yawing crevice that was the separate entity of superior and underling, fearing the ramifications.

His harsh breathing was as strong as the twilight chill. Somewhere above the disquiet, the hollowness of your pretences scabs your skin. Making a small noise under his nose, sounding suspiciously like Dai Shi's grunt but there is no way to be sure. You pull the blankets tighter around you, aiming to draw some comfort from something. Your nails claw into the soft material of your mattress, discharging threads and cotton. Arriving at his decision, striding with authoritative majesty to the door that will close him off from temptation. It dawns on you as his retreating footsteps fill your ears. There is no tell-tale beat of his heavy cloak against air and Dai Shi was seldom without it. The pelt was the crest of everything he emboldens, the insignia for the new dawn. The conclusion to the way of life of man. That he could think of entering your chamber without it adorning his broad, imposing shoulders spoke volumes. Regretful rancour slithering deeper into the cavity of your chest, burrowing, rancid and astringent. Whatever it was shouldn't be delved in too deeply, truly the only real answer is total desertion.

Your 'feelings' are inconsequential, a superfluous obstacle in the path to Dai Shi's achievement of ultimate sovereignty. You, Camille will continue to serve by his side and that was sufficient. Wasn't it?

It is undeniable that some of your dreams are of the man (dare you utter his name when for a fleeting moment he had appeared by your bedside)

You and Him tasting and delving, deeper against, into, in a rhythmic dance with each other, your bodies as one. As both complement each other on the battle field. His eyes hooded, regard you with uninhibited animalistic ardour, golden pinpricks of light giving him the appearance of a god. Your lips are swollen and quivering, colour creeping up the marble planes of your skin. Delight is exploding from within you, as he holds you, possessing you with a hand firmly entrenched in your dark mane and another around your svelte figure. You are floating under his influence. It is what you have wanted for so long, for so very long. Once again he claims your mouth as his own, his own to dominate. The pleasure he engenders is indescribable except to those who know what it means to feel loved. Lazily his fingers, beautifully defined, trace patterns on you naked skin. Your skin is on fire when amphibians are supposed to be cold-blooded. He has you surrendering to his capricious nature, willingly you abide.

Your eyelashes waver, caught between confronting reality or deriving succour from wistful dreams. Resolvedly, you fall deeper into the little alcove you've created, a safe haven for your lustful musings. Your heart is as heavy as your body because it is not only the ambience that is overpowering and depressing. The man, who rebuffs your attempts, then invades your personal space just to tease you with intimations of what he could offer. And the worst of it all. The worst is that he succeeds in squeezing a droplet of water from your arid, reptilian eyes. Indifference was his forte and he wields it against you. The frostiness, after his company abandons you, clamours around you. Sleep claims you. The sun awakens you to a new day. A day to finish off the Power Rangers. Despite it all, you uphold the sanctity of his second in command and that was a title you have forced yourself to preserve and will continue to do so, if only to share his shadow.

_My brother and I have a bet going on. He says the story is too corny and not many people are going to review. So if you like this story please review, I feel it is my best work so help me prove it to my brother. I will win after 8 reviews._


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